A Teacher trying to Divide - day 7

traversing Richmond Peak - Check!

Sunday 14th July

I was awake by 3 or 4 in the morning due to another big electrical storm.  The noise, the flashes, the feeling of being at its mercy was incredible.  My evolving morning strategy was to stay in the tent to change out of my merino sleeping clothes, carefully put them back into a drybag and then change back into my often, still damp riding clothes.  Then deflate my airbed and stuff it, along with the drybag into my Revelate Terrapin seat bag.  Finally I would wrestle my synthetic MHW Laminate sleeping bag into one half of my Revelate Saltyroll bar bag.  The trick was to let the sleeping bag push the air down in front of itself until it was in the bottom half.  I had chosen a synthetic sleeping bag as I know from experience that down is useless and downright dangerous when wet  (did you see what I did there?)  Often the hardest part of a day is getting your feet on the floor.  With all my cooking kit hanging up in a tree this was not difficult!  The rain appeared to have eased off as I retrieved my dry bag from the tree and headed back to bike.  Coffee and granola bars for breakfast again.  My BigBro 29er was propped against a noticeboard which made repacking a little easier.  My cooking kit lived down in the centre of my frame bag where it didn’t affect the handling of my bike, was easy to get to during the day if I wanted a brew and in this location it didn;t rattle...rattling on the trail day after day - NO WAY!

storm during the night at Owl Packers

The last thing to do was to take down Al’s Tarptent Stratospire 1 which was still pretty wet with rain.  This tent dried quickly in the sun, or wind so I wasn’t too worried about stuffing it into the other half of my bar bag in this state.  Al’s tent had also been down the Divide a couple of times already so knew the score and was definitely something of a talisman to me.

Last night I had read and re-read the intricate route description for the traverse of Richmond Peak.  This section being one of the Divide ‘punch card’ sections with grizzlies, downed trees across the trail, sleet/snow, steepness, singletrack and did I mention grizzlies?  For the first wee while my dynamo light was an additional help as I steered to pick the best line up the gravel.  I couldn’t help thinking back to the first time I had proudly shown Al this Edelux II light when we were riding near the River Feshie in the Cairngorms.  He told me to get off my bike and push.  Then imagine doing this in ‘bear country’.  How good did the light feel now!?

Richmond Peak trail

At mile 216.8 on the ACA Map after the orange-diamond snowmobile trail I rode onto the ‘lesser-travelled dirt trail’.  Even writing this 7 months later on I can see the undergrowth that has enclosed the trail and feel the silence.  At 219.6 I met a short, sharp , ‘steep hill’ where I pushed up through the bushes acutely aware that I couldn’t see what was either side of me, or up ahead - just like on day 1...I pushed past the gate, turned left and soon encountered some RVs and Jeeps parked up at Clearwater Lake.  After this I slowly but surely began the 5.5 miles spin up West Morrell Road/FR 4353.  As I looked up I couldn’t help but think that was on too much of a traverse and not climbing enough.  The purple line on my Garmin didn’t really help.  At one point I turned to check out a turn in but it ended at another gate with the remains of an open campfire.  I simply couldn’t imagine spending the night there but I guess the Tour Divide riders are wired differently.

Soon enough I came to the 4-way junction where there was a pickup parked and its driver just about to get in.  I pushed the cranks just a little harder to make it up to him before he drove off.  He told me that he had tried to camp up here yesterday afternoon and has been chased away by strong winds and hail stones the size of walnuts!  This confirmed to me that my decision to stay low yesterday had been a good one which had avoided a cold, soaking on the climb then a miserable camp or dangerous chilled descent to Seeley Lake.

At mile 230.7 the route description says that the road becomes more primitive.  To be honest I was unsure what this meant.  When I saw that it was some of the best singletrack I have ever, ever ridden I was once again overcome by the emotion of riding this Route.  The trail traversed, or descended the side of an alpine basin with spectacular rocky peaks at the top and acre after acre of forest dropping steeply away to my left.  One section had been washed away and it certainly demanded my full attention.  My own riding and control, of even a loaded rigid bike was good enough to cope with this terrain but I did think to myself how terrifying this might be to other less experienced, or competent riders.

fantastic conditions on the 'primitive trail'

I found my ‘Bear Voice’ on this descent.  At each bend.  Whenever the trail got closed in by vegetation I made my noise.  I liked my noise.  Mostly because I don’t think anyone else was going to hear my noise.  Except the grizzlies.  The descent was breathtaking, like nothing I had ever done before.  The 8 miles down to Seeley Lake were on freshly graded gravel too which on my 29er with 2.2’’ tires took no time at all.

Close to Seeley Lake I encountered some other riders heading in the opposite direction NOBO.  Although only a 2 mile detour to resupply I made the decision to push on to Lincoln for the day.  The undulating climb to Cottonwood Lakes and Little Shanley Creek did take a bit out my skinny legs, but not as much as the rising temperatures which my wife had warned me about.  I passed more NOBO riders who in comparison seemed so fresh.  The rat on my shoulder whispered ‘They won’t be so fresh on the way up Richmond Peak!’  On Shanley Creek Road I caught up with two other SOBO riders and we rode together and chatted for a while before my urgency to reach Lincoln kicked in again.  One of today's highlights was riding past an airfield where a twin prop plane did a great take off for me.

I was tired at this point!

Forest Road 89 seemed to burst out of the forest and into a wide open plain.  I sensed, rather than saw that Highway 200 and Ovando were not that far away.  One of the riders caught me up at a photo stop and said that he was unsure of where to stop, maybe Lincoln.  Little did I know that we were not going to see one another for a couple of days then spend a day riding together.  

Rob who I still keep in touch with.

I pulled into Ovando early afternoon and headed straight to The Ovando Inn to resupply which is really just a code for ‘binge-eat’.  I bought tins of Coke, microwave burrito and more granola bars.  I even bloated out with an ice cream.  The calories surged through my body and it felt so, so good.  Then the lady at the Inn played a Jedi-mind trick on me…

Ovando

Owl Creek Packer Camp to Ovando Inn 58 miles, 4648 feet of ascent, 9 hours  (7  hours riding + 2 hours stopped)